Victor: Her Ruthless Crush Read online

  Actually, I did remember the last time I saw him cry. On the plane ride over here. He’d sniffed quietly, turning his head toward the window so that Dad wouldn't catch him. And I’d held his hand and promised everything would be all right.

  Everything had been alright. Up until this term of his second year. What happened wasn't my fault, but still…

  As I walked to the subway station, it felt like I had failed my brother. Now his life was the opposite of all right, and I didn't know how to fix it.

  But Byron was right. I was late for my tutoring session with Victor. Re-shouldering my backpack—which in hindsight could've been used as a shield for Byron as opposed to my face—I headed off to the train station alone.

  Winter had come in like a lion a few weeks ago. And the cold wind blew so hard that my knitted hat flew off and disappeared into the dark before I could run after it.

  Ugh! Well, that felt like one of those metaphors that were always coming in our English classes. And that would definitely be another lecture from my mom.

  I could already see her signing about how I was “too irresponsible” and how I would have to use my “Chinese boy” money to buy another one. I sighed. Thank God I’d been able to hide what I was really using the money I made tutoring Victor to buy. I didn’t even want to imagine that freak-out.

  Thanks to missing the express train, I didn’t get into Roppongi station until a good forty minutes after my usual time. Donny always met me at the top of the stairs to escort me into Victor's super-secure building, but his regular spot, where I usually found him leaned up against the wall, was vacant. He had probably assumed I wasn’t coming and had left. And when I went to get on the escalator, I found a placard apologizing for it being broken.

  This day would not let up!

  I ran up the station steps, but I realized I was in trouble as soon as I got to the top. It had been hard enough to find Victor's building in the tangle of Roppongi high-rises when I still had daylight on my side. I’m pretty sure Victor started sending Donny to the station to get me because a couple of times I got a little lost and had to apologize for being tardy.

  But looking up at the glittering district, I knew there was a zero percent chance I wouldn’t get lost tonight. And I was already so late—

  My thoughts cut off when, out of nowhere, a hand clapped over my mouth, and somebody grabbed me from behind.

  5

  I screamed into my attacker’s gloved hand. But even I couldn’t hear the muffled sound over the street traffic. I tried to struggle, but the attacker’s arms were like steel bands around me. I couldn't jab him with my elbow or even kick my feet back because he was holding onto me so tight.

  Oh God, why was this happening? What did he want? A sickening fear washed over me. Was he going to hurt me? Or worse?

  Just as my mind began to unravel with panic, my attacker yanked the leather glove off the hand that wasn't clamped over my mouth. And he raised it into my eye line to sign one word in ASL: no.

  “Victor?” I asked against his hand, my panic morphing into confusion.

  The steel arm bands eased. And just like that, I was free.

  I turned around, and sure enough, there was Victor. He looked like the human embodiment of a raven with both his hair and his long black coat whipping in the wind.

  “What the hell, Victor?” I demanded, too upset to sign.

  He took off his other glove to answer, “I didn't want you to scream. And I knew that if I tapped you on your shoulder, you would scream.”

  “So you decided to scare me half to death instead?” I signed along with my words this time. Just yelling at him wouldn’t fully convey how pissed off I was. Like my mom, I needed the sign language back up.

  Victor answered in a rush, his strong hands pale against the black backdrop of his coat. “I was worried when Donny said you didn’t arrive at the station. And you didn’t answer my calls. I was going to take the train to Adachi-ku. Make sure you are okay. I thought that would be faster than having Donny drive me since it’s rush hour. I saw you come out of the station, but you didn’t see me. You walked right past me. I followed you, but I didn't know how to get your attention without scaring you and making you scream. I didn’t want you to scream.”

  Guilt instantly replaced my anger.

  “My phone doesn’t work underground,” I explained. “And I was in such a hurry to get to our appointment. I didn’t even think to check it. Sorry.”

  He looked at me, looked away, then he signed, “Do not apologize. I am glad you are safe and here.”

  An awkward silence dropped down between us. And, okay…

  I knew he had a girlfriend. Like, the hottest girlfriend ever. Her name was Ayane. We exchanged polite hellos whenever the Thursday tutoring sessions went too long and interfered with their date plans. Which was a lot.

  I also knew that I was just some goofy girl his dad had hired to teach him ASL.

  But I couldn’t keep myself from signing in my terrible CSL, “You were going to my home? Why didn't you send Donny?”

  Strangely, he answered back in CSL too. “I wanted to see with my own eyes. I wanted to know you are safe.”

  Okay, my brain knew that Victor and I were just friends. And obviously, he was very loyal to his friends. I mean, he talked more about “his brother” Han, who wasn’t actually blood-related to him, than he did about himself. But my heart…

  My heart turned into a puddle of goo inside my chest.

  I step closer to him to sign in CSL while speaking in English, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you.”

  I would have preferred to say “worried,” but I didn't know that word in CSL, which gave me an idea.

  “Maybe we should learn the sign for WORRY today,” I signed said in ASL. “Do you know that word? It's, like, fear, but not scary fear. It’s like the fear a mother feels for her kid. Like, all the time. Even when she’s being ridiculous.”

  He frowned down at me, his expression suddenly becoming as hard as a statue.

  And I grimaced, realizing my mistake. He probably had no idea what I was talking about since he didn’t have a mother who worried unnecessarily over him. Ugh! What a clueless thing to say. First, all the missed calls, and now this.

  I was about to sign another apology when he grabbed me out of the blue again—this time by the chin.

  “Okay, what's happening?” I asked when he turned my face directly into the beam of a nearby streetlight.

  He let go of my chin. But only to sign in ASL, “What happened to your face?”

  Oh, that…

  Somehow the pain of getting face punched less than an hour ago had faded as soon as I saw him.

  “Nothing,” I answered in CSL. “Accident.”

  He gave me a skeptical look, his eyes sharp and suspicious.

  But then, instead of questioning me further, he signed, “You were walking the wrong way from the station. My apartment is this way.

  Then he started walking in the right direction, leaving me to catch up to him.

  I did, but his gait was so much longer and faster than mine, I almost had to jog to keep up.

  Christmas wasn't really a thing in Japan in the Christian sense. But in the “hey, everybody, let's shop!” sense, it was totally on—at least in the Roppongi district. The window displays of the high-end shops we walked past on the way to Victor’s building were strewn with bright fairy lights, custom wreaths, oversized gift box displays, and ultra-fashionable mannequins who looked like they were having the times of their lives.

  The responsible tutor in me wanted to use all that visual material as an opportunity for an impromptu Christmas signs lesson. But the girl in me was too worried to say or sign a word.

  Victor and I were friends. He had cared enough to come looking for me when I didn't show up for our tutoring session.

  But his silence was furious, and I didn't know what to do or what to say to lighten the mood.

  We made it back to his place before I could come up with
anything. I mumbled an apology to Donny in Japanese as we walked in past him. He said something back, but I didn't understand it. I was too upset about Victor being upset to be at my best for listening comprehension.

  Victor entered his suite first and hung back to slide the doors closed behind us after I walked into the room.

  Usually, he left them open. But I was still too weirded out by Victor’s sudden mood change to say anything, so I just sat down at my usual spot.

  There was a bowl sitting in the middle of the table. It was filled with fruit, a few kinds I didn’t even recognize.

  At first, I was super confused, but then I realized these were the favorite snacks he’d promised me last week.

  I chuckled and rolled my eyes as Victor dropped down into his usual seat on the other side of the low table. “Of course, your favorite snack is fruit. You’re like my mother’s dream child.”

  I was hoping my quip would calm Victor down. But he didn’t silently laugh, just grabbed his scratch notepad and started writing.

  “Maybe we could learn the names of all these fruits in both CSL and ASL. Then we could—”

  I cut off when Victor snatched the bowl of fruit away and replaced it with the notepad.

  The words “Who hurt you?” were written out across it in angry slashes.

  I lifted my hands to sign ACCIDENT again. But he took the scratch notepad and started writing again before I could.

  He slammed it back down a few seconds later.

  Now it said, “DO NOT LIE TO ME!” underneath his original question. In all caps.

  I raised my hands to lie anyway, but then I lowered them.

  Victor and I were friends, and the thing was, I didn't have a ton of those here in Japan. At school, I was too weird for the American kids and not the right kind of foreign cool for the Japanese kids. Victor was my friend, and I didn't want to lie to him.

  Besides, he'd be leaving for Hong Kong soon. I might never see him again after this if his father didn't “make a decision” to send them back to Japan before I left for college. Would it really be such a huge betrayal of my brother’s secret if I told someone Byron would never meet the truth?

  Letting out a breath, I wrote down the words PROTECT, BULLY, BISEXUAL below what Victor wrote. I slid the notepad back to him. “I need the CSL signs for these words to tell you the whole story.”

  He looked at what I’d written, then frowned at me. I was wondering if I would have to explain what bisexual was or if CSL even had a sign for it when Victor suddenly gave me all three of the words I’d asked for in rapid, precise procession.

  I took another deep breath. Then I spoke signed, “My brother…he liked girls back in America. But when he got here, he realized he liked boys too. One boy, at least. The grandson of my dad's boss.”

  I told Victor the whole story. Signing-wise, it wasn't pretty. Even with the three words Victor gave me, I ended up subbing in a lot of ASL. And some signs I plain skipped over, hoping my spoken English would be enough to make up for them.

  But once I started the story I hadn't told anyone else, it all came spilling out of me. How Jake and Byron had bonded over their shared love of basketball after we transferred into his elite international school. How they had been best friends. Until one day, Jake kissed Byron, and Byron kissed him back.

  “I was the only one Byron had told about Jake. They snuck around for almost a year, dating girls for show and dating each other for real. Maybe they never would have told anybody, but Jake got too bold. He pulled Byron behind the lockers for a kiss after basketball practice, and they got caught by two of their friends. And did Jake choose that moment to finally come out and tell everyone the truth, like in an indie movie? Nope, of course not…”

  I let out a huff at the memory of my brother confiding in me about how his secret boyfriend had shoved him away and accused Byron of kissing him out of the blue. After that, he’d told the guys who caught them and everyone else on the basketball team that Byron had “attacked” him behind the locker.

  “Byron lost his reputation, all of his friends, and the guy he thought he loved. But that still wasn't enough for Jake. He's made Byron's life hell since they got caught kissing last semester,” I told Victor, overemphasizing the sign for HELL.

  Then I explained to him what happened to my face. “They weren't trying to hurt me. I just got in the way, and the guy accidentally punched me instead of my brother. I told Jake he had to stop hurting Byron. That I would tell the basketball coach. But Jake just laughed at me. He basically said he could do whatever he wanted, which I guess is true because Byron ended up having to apologize to him for me interfering with his beat down. It was totally humiliating. And I can't do anything about it because Jake's grandfather is my dad's boss. Plus, my dad would flip if he found out Byron was bi.”

  I deflated a little with the reminder of just how little power I had to help my brother. “So I guess I’m less hurt than upset for my little brother.”

  I finished the long story with a sad sigh.

  Victor’s response didn't take long. He scrawled more words on the notepad and pushed it toward me. “Not sister's job to protect brother.”

  My heart sank, reading over the totally unhelpful note. I didn't know what I was expecting. Some kind of understanding, maybe? He seemed to be listening so intently while I told my story. But then again, he couldn’t talk. I guess I'd mistaken not interrupting as understanding.

  Of course, he didn't understand.

  We were friends. But we were from two very different places, and there were some cultural divides that our friendship couldn't bridge.

  I didn't know why I felt so disappointed. But I shook it off and tore away the notepad’s top sheet to get to a clean piece of paper.

  “Okay, let's just get back to this tutoring lesson,” I said forcefully to both Victor and myself. “I'm thinking we should dive into these way too healthy snacks of yours. Then we’ll go over some holiday words.”

  6

  VICTOR

  Dawn was upset.

  Sure, she put on a smile and guided him through new vocabulary as she usually did during their sessions. But it wasn't the same as before.

  She didn't make up any little games to seal in what they'd learned. They didn't laugh as they went over the signs they exchanged, and there were no side conversations to provide context for all the new terms. And as for the fruit he'd had imported from California and several Asian regions, especially for their last tutoring session, it remained on the table between them. Untouched.

  Other than that, she did an admirable job of transitioning from their infuriating conversation.

  Victor wished he could say the same. He barely managed to keep the rage boiling inside of him in check. He performed several signs incorrectly. It was difficult to focus on anything outside of the maah lat gwai who had dared to touch her.

  Finally, she spoke-signed, “I don’t think either of us is up for concentrating right now. I should get home anyway. Byron probably let my parents know that I didn't get here on time. But if I'm too late, they’ll worry about me.”

  Victor took note of the ASL sign for WORRY… and the fact that they never exchanged signs for the word as she'd suggested earlier.

  “Donny will walk with you to the station,” he signed.

  “He really doesn’t have to, especially after I stood him up earlier….”

  Victor abruptly stood up from the table and signed even more forcefully, “Donny will walk with you to the station.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she mumbled-signed before standing up as well.

  As usual, an awkward silence dropped down between them when the lesson ended, and it was time to say goodbye. This hadn’t changed, even though she’d been tutoring him for over three months.

  “Where’s Ayane?” she asked, looking toward Victor’s still closed door. “Usually, she’s here by now, right?”

  “I canceled our date when I thought I would be going to Adachi-ku,” Victor answered.
/>   She shifted uncomfortably and fiddled with the lapel of her uniform jacket. “Again, I’m so sorry about not showing up on time.”

  It wasn’t her fault. But if he thought too hard about that, he wouldn’t be able to maintain that mask he’d pasted over his rage. So another awkward silence descended.

  “Has your father said anything to you yet about coming back next year?” she asked, changing the subject.

  That wasn't his father's way. Since Victor couldn't talk outside of texting on the phone, Raymond rarely communicated with him between visits. And as for his decisions—those were exclusively announced in person, usually with a formal meeting in his office at their Hong Kong estate.

  Victor answered her with the simplest version of the truth. “I don't think I'll be coming back.”

  Then he held out the usual golden envelope filled with money for her tutoring fees.

  “Oh, okay. So I guess this is really goodbye.” She looked down before Victor could assess how she felt about the possibility of never seeing him again.

  “I…um…” One of her dark, wild curls had come out of her braided ponytail. She pushed it behind her ear and started signing in the mashup of ASL and CSL that she used whenever she had a lot to say. “I wanted to thank you. Tutoring you was really fun. Like, totally the highlight of all my weeks this term. And I just thought you should know that you truly helped me. The money I made from this job—wow, I've never told anybody this before, but seeing as how this is our last goodbye, I’ll tell you my big secret…”

  Victor’s heart stopped beating at the word “secret.”

  But then, she picked up her backpack and pulled out an oversized leather binder. “So this was one of the things I bought with the money I made. It’s called a portfolio in English—it’s kind of like a place to collect your best art.”

  She held it out to him.